


Just To See If I'm Alive

by DirtyRottenRaskel



Series: Saving The World Doesn't Mean You Can Save Yourself [1]
Category: Avengers (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Seriously Angsty, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve has a nightmare, Stony - Freeform, didn't mean for all the angst, good ending i guess, like 4 paragraphs of fluff, war flash backs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9878726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyRottenRaskel/pseuds/DirtyRottenRaskel
Summary: He froze in that ice and sometimes, it feels like they never completely thawed him out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short, angsty mess, but I guess if you're in the mood for that, enjoy.

_Soft and powdery snow fell to the ground. It dusted over their tracks, as if the Howling Commandos had never been there. They hadn't, had they? They had been through snow before, with a lot of the war in Europe and all, but that snow didn't bleed when it touched the soldiers._

_It didn't run down the mountain, leaving vein like paths against the untouched powder. Snow wasn't supposed to pool, murky and red, around the bases of the trees._

_No, not trees. Bodies. Bodies lying against the snow, writing history with their blood. Battles fought and won; battles fought and lost. The outcome didn't matter. It was still written with the same ink._

_Steve was bleeding. It ran down his face, crusting up along the edges of his nose, the bottom of his lip. It dripped off his chin, but he didn't feel it. He didn't feel the blood. He didn't feel the wound. He didn't feel the ice making its way down his shoes and into his gloves. He didn't feel the begrudging determination of his men. He didn't feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't feel the absence of his best friend. He didn't feel._

_Could he? Would he ever feel? Or did the war take that too. Only one way to find out._

_Steve pulled his standard issue gun from his belt loop and pressed it to his wrist._

_Still nothing. He didn't feel the metal barrel of the gun pressed against the flesh of his wrist. He didn't feel the anticipation of what he was about to do. It was all just...gone._

_He pulled the trigger._

Someone screamed. Was it him? He didn't think so. Steve's teeth were gritted against each other too tightly to scream.

Tony. Tony had screamed. He was still screaming but now he was screaming at Steve. Demanding to know what he was thinking. How he even knew where Tony kept that gun (and that he even had one down here). He stopped yelling. Steve hadn't blinked. Just stared at him, fixing his baby blues dark with shadows upon him.

"Steve? Steve hon, are you ok?" That's the first thing Tony should have asked. Not yelled at him. He could yell at him later. Hit him too if they were sparing. Right now, Tony needed to know why.

Coming closer, he tucked a sweat matted strand behind his ear. Steve didn't even flinch. His wrist was still oozing, blood splatters joining the countless other stains on the floor of Tony's workshop.

Steve's unfocused stare was still aimed at Tony, even when he was only a couple inches from his face. Then it hit him. The blank stare, the unresponsiveness, why Steve was even down here in his workshop, in pajamas nonetheless. Steve was sleepwalking.

"Steve?" Tony asked again.

He blinked.

"If Hell froze over why aren't I cold? I was dead. I was so, so cold. But now I’m not. I’m not cold. I’m not in pain. I’m bleeding and I don’t feel it. Why aren’t I cold?" Steve mumbled.

Toy was confused. What in Hell's name was Cap talking about? Why wasn't he cold? It was like 75 degrees in his workshop. Tony hated the cold. He cursed, remembering the reason he had looked up in the first place. The bullet wound in Steve's wrist. He quietly barked an order for DUM-E to bring him a first aid kit.

He snapped open the plastic container, pulling out the gauze and wrapping it around Steve's bloody arm. After taping it, Tony pried the gun from Steve's white knuckled grasp.

"No."

Tony's head jerked up. Gone was the fog of sleep from Steve's eyes. In its place was cold, relentless pain. Steve wasn't sleepwalking anymore. He was defiantly awake.

"I felt that. I _felt_ that. You can't just take it away," Steve pleaded, hand still wrapped around the cold metal of the pistol.

Tony cocked his head to the side, "But, it hurt. It _hurt_ and you want to, to keep it? I don't-"

"Liar," Steve cut in. "You lying, hypocritical bastard. What kept you sane after Afghanistan. What kept you human. It was pain. Pain kept you present, it kept you grounded. It kept your mind here, instead of in that cave you nearly died in. So don't tell me you 'don't know why' I carry the pain and the guilt with me. Just to see if I'm alive. Dead people don't feel pain, but the living do. The gun's just a reminder of that Tony. You of all people should know that; you keep one in your desk drawer. You don't need it, but you keep it as a reminder."

"I-," Tony stammered. How did Cap know? Had he himself even known why he kept the old gun?

He blinked. "But you don't, you shouldn't keep it around. You're too good for that. You don’t see it, you never fucking see it. The world is blessed to have you, why for a second would you put yourself through that?"

"Maybe you think I don't. Maybe the world thinks I don't. But I do. I’m paying. I’m paying time and time again for something I will never fully give back. So I keep it," Tony said, body sagging with exhaustion.

"No. No, you don't get to keep it. I don't either. I'm no good at this, but I'm trying. If I'm trying, then by God Almighty why aren't you?" Tony demanded.

"I-," Steve stared.

Tony cut him off. "Nope. Not having this conversation with you right now. Not today. I love you as we're going to bed. That's it."

He turned and spun on his heel. Before long, a second pair of footsteps joined him on the stairs up to his bedroom. Tony reached back and laced a hand through his Captain's.

"You took so long to get up here, what kept you," Tony pouted, hiding his worry about Cap being left alone in the mental state he's in right now.

"Left the lights on, idiot," he replied, turning the smaller man and resting their foreheads together. "Gotta save the polar bears."

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Cap shut him up with a kiss before he was able to.

"Shut up and sleep with me already Tony," he implored.

Tony said nothing, just waggled his eyebrows.

Sunrise found these two in a helpless knot of limbs in Steve's bed, not likely to move anytime soon. They were sleeping, right then, right there, minds filled with nothing but each other.

**Author's Note:**

> I tried fluff. This is as fluffy as I get. Kudos and comments are always appreciated. :D  
> Love,  
> Cassy XOXO


End file.
